


I know i tend to make it about me

by Nicini, suganii (feints)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Humor, Inunaki Shion is a little shit, Meteo Attack, POV Multiple, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Canon, Shit happens but life works out, Some angst, Udai Tenma is a little shit, minor mention of injuries, rivals to friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicini/pseuds/Nicini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feints/pseuds/suganii
Summary: Inunaki Shion really didn’t know how it happened, but here he was: Professional Volleyball player in the Division 1 V-League, holding a manga in his hands that was probably partially inspired by him.However, if he was honest, he knew exactly where it started: Spring High in his second year in high school, bumping into a little wing spiker who became an annoying rival and friend that he probably had bullied into writing a manga about volleyball. A self-satisfied grin sneaked onto his face as he opened the latest volume to finally read about the new libero that was going to be introduced. However, staring at the opened page his smile got wiped off his face and got replaced by a scowl instead.Udai Tenma, you damn bastard.Glimpses of Inunaki Shion and Udai Tenma's friendship over the years.
Relationships: Inunaki Shion & Udai Tenma, minor Inunaki Shion & Hinata Shouyou, minor Udai Tenma & Akaashi Keiji
Comments: 21
Kudos: 46





	1. inunaki.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for your interest in this fic! After realizing that Tenma and Shion were the same age, the both of us thought: Hey! Maybe they met at nationals and thus this idea was born. Each of us wrote a POV, Nicini the first chapter from Inunaki's, and Minty the second chapter from Udai's. Both of us had such a blast writing this, we hope you like it!

*

Inunaki Shion really didn’t know how it happened, but here he was: Professional Volleyball player in the Division 1 V-League, holding a manga in his hands that was probably partially inspired by him.

However, if he was honest, he knew exactly where it started: Spring High in his second year in high school, bumping into a little wing spiker who became an annoying rival and friend that he probably had bullied into writing a manga about volleyball. A self-satisfied grin sneaked onto his face as he opened the latest volume to finally read about the new libero that was going to be introduced. However, staring at the opened page his smile got wiped off his face and got replaced by a scowl instead.

_Udai Tenma, you damn bastard._

*

When people would ask, Inunaki would say that the fated meeting began back at the Interhigh in his second year, though now that he looked back, it had probably started when he first heard the rumors about that “freaky little giant that despite his height was the ace of a powerhouse school” when his team had visited the Miyagi prefecture for a practice match. He had only heard about it in passing from some of the opposing team when he went to fill his water bottle outside. It had only spiked his interest for a moment because he had heard his name and the words “Yeah, I mean that libero, what’s his name? Inuzaki? Inunaki? Well, whatever, that little libero is still probably taller than the little giant! Just imagine how good and fierce of a spiker he has to be to become an ace. Absolutely freaky.”

“Huh?” he had asked himself when he went back to the gym. He had accepted that with his stature and height he would’ve never become a wing spiker and even so, he liked the libero position more. He would always have his teammates’ backs and to know that he was the main defence, the main opponent and last resolve against a spiker made him feel validated. It was certainly a position that was extremely important and in his honest opinion, the coolest. The fact that he was also good at it may or may not play a part in it. So, it honestly came at a surprise that there was some other guy with his height playing as a spiker.

It should have ended with that fleeting thought, and soon Inunaki had forgotten about that rumor, but then came the Spring High tournament.

*

“I’m going to be back soon!” Inunaki shouted to his team, before walking around a bit. There was still some time before his match would start and Shion had never been a person who had much trouble with nerves, and the fact that it was now the second time his team, with himself included, qualified to play on a national level was also helping it. Right now, he only wanted to explore a little bit, check out some of the booths, maybe buy a t-shirt or two before he was going to go back on court.

He’d just rounded a corner when suddenly something, no, someone, bumped into him. Hard.

“Woah! Sorry there,” Shion called out as he struggled to lean on the wall for support with one hand and stretched out with his other to catch the other guy, but it was too late.

“Oh man, it’s okay,” the black-haired teen grumbled, took Shion’s hand to heave himself up and looked up at him with an intense gleam in his eyes.

Inunaki on the other hand let his gaze scan over the other boy. He was a little bit smaller than him, which honestly came as a surprise, especially when he took the volleyball team jacket in consideration. He didn’t recognize the design, but there also were like what? 50 teams in here? He honestly didn’t know. That didn’t stop him from getting excited though. Talking to fellow liberos always made him a little bit giddy. Of course, there always was a sense of rivalry involved and he kept close tabs on them, if only to sneak the one or other technique, but honestly? There were no hard feelings involved, his battle was more with spikers anyway.

Inunaki looked back into the eyes of the guy and proceeded to smile, ignoring the raised eyebrow and just started asking, “Oh? You’re also a libero?”

There shouldn’t be anything wrong with that conversation starter, it was just a nice beginning. He smiled, he was nice and he even found common ground to start talking, so why on earth did the guy in front him start to seethe and literally murder him with his eyes?

Oh, and now his collar was grabbed and he was dragged down to eye level, which was only like an inch or two, but who was counting? Absolutely perfect, what did he even do wrong?!

“What?!” the guy hissed and Inunaki was prepared to answer, he really was, but the moment he opened his mouth, the other libero just continued, “The fuck you think you are to get off and call me a libero?!”

“Ehhhh? I just…I just thought…your height and I just assumed that you’re…also…a libero?” Shion fucked up. He really did, but seriously, that guy shouldn’t be so offended. Libero was a great position and he could have just cleared it up instead of piercing holes into him with his raging stare. With that height he surely wasn’t a middle blocker, so what was the problem with him assuming that he was a libero?

“What?! So, you think just because I’m small that I can’t spike straight into your face?! I’m my team’s ace, you jerk!” he snarled and let go of his collar by pushing him away.

It grinded on Shion’s nerves and he wasn’t going to let this slander happen without retaliating. Who did this guy think he was?

“Oh, you _mighty ace_ ,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, “bold of you to assume that your spikes are somehow going to get through my receives, much less get somewhere even close to my face!”

Inunaki could almost see the vein in his opponent’s face pop and it honestly amused him more than he thought it would, but then he caught the other one’s eyes and the fire, the determination and the _challenge_ in them made him drop his smirk and stare intensely right back.

“Oh, it’s on, libero! Better not get knocked out before I get to you!” the spiker spit out, and proceeded to walk past Shion by purposely bumping his left shoulder.

Inunaki turned and narrowed his eyes at the back of his opponent before calling out a challenging “See you on court!” and walking away, too.

*

Did Shion hold dumb grudges? Yes, sometimes, and apparently Udai Tenma was no different. The moment the both of them locked eyes two days later when their teams walked onto the court, a challenging grin and a sneer were exchanged. He didn’t exactly know what had aggravated him so much about the other guy, but he was definitely going to show him that he was not someone to be considered lightly, especially if his pride as a libero was at stake.

He wasn’t going to play at the start yet, so Inunaki could watch how the first few points were exchanged. If he was honest, he was intrigued by Udai. The guy was actually a very good hitter and deserved being called Karasuno’s ace. The first time he jumped and made a block-out, even Shion had to admit that he was in awe. The guy was small, but he certainly did know how to get points in.

The libero didn’t quite know how he was supposed to save these points, as some of those balls just ricocheted off to the audience’s stands, but well. Nothing could be done about those.

Shion was a little shit, he knew that. So, when he subbed out the middle blocker of their team in the backrow, he couldn’t hold back winking cheekily at the number 10, who had observed him. It promptly caused a frown. Yeah, Inunaki knew how to get on the nerves of his opponents and it made him grin.

His team had the serve which was received and bumped cleanly to their opponent’s setter, who sent it to Udai. Inunaki saw how Udai looked at the blockers and decided to spike through them. Shion had positioned himself perfectly and so he was there without delay. The ball smashed hard onto his underarms, but he received it cleanly to his setter, to their wing spiker and bam! They had a point. His arms still stung slightly with the familiar burn of a volleyball, searching Udai out with his eyes, who looked thoroughly pissed at him, and then Shion just stuck a tongue out. Was he petty? Yes. This game was going to be funny as heck, he could tell and so he just riled up the other guy more.  
  
 _Spiking in his face? As if. That ace should know his place._

Shion should really stop thinking and summoning things by not believing they would actually happen, because the next thing he knew, a ball was shooting right past his face onto the court and that was only because he had half a mind to get his head out of the trajectory.

“What the fuck?!”

He whirled on Udai Tenma who grinned at him through the net and then had the audacity to stick his tongue out just like he did. This…this bitch had actually looked him straight in the eye, right before he smashed the volleyball like a canon at him. It had actually felt like time had stopped, Udai’s eyes aflame and burning with an intensity that had actually made Shion fear him for a moment, and it also felt like time had passed by way too quickly because he didn’t actually know what had happened, until the ball had already ricocheted off the floor.  
  
Inunaki didn’t hear the cheers or his teammate’s calls to shake it off. He tuned all of it out, just staring at the little ace, the _little giant_ who’d smirked at him, who had known exactly what he did and how it would piss Inunaki off. Of course it did, but some twisted part of him was excited, was relieved about the fact that the guy hadn’t been just all talk and although he had stared at him with wide unbelieving eyes because goddamn, a ball had nearly smashed into his face, he couldn’t stop a little smile sneaking onto his face.  
  
 _Alright, Udai. Fine. It’s on. Challenge accepted._

*

It was fun.

More fun than he would have hoped to have when he entered this match. However, Udai was a petty guy, just like he was and so it was no wonder that whenever Udai served, he aimed it right at Inunaki. Players tended to avoid liberos while serving, so it was such a nice change to actually be targeted. It was even more fun to see the look on the ace’s face when Inunaki received it every time. It wasn’t always perfectly clean, he had to admit begrudgingly that his teammates sometimes had to cover it, but Udai wasn’t getting a single no-touch service ace from him and it was just so delightful to see the other one realize that, his serves getting more vicious with every try.

The libero prided himself in his abilities, he knew he was good and he knew professional teams would start looking to recruit right here, right at the Nationals stage and he wanted them to see him. He had hopes and ambitions and dreams and he wanted this so badly. If he could get their eyes on him, maybe even get an offer when he graduated, that would be like a child’s dream come true. However, he was still only a second year. This wouldn’t be the last chance he got and so he just did the best he could. He dived and bumped and dug and saved the ball like his life depended on it and if he was enjoying it the whole while, well, that was only the natural causality.

It didn’t take long for his teammates and probably also the audience, to see the rivalry begin to bloom between Karasuno’s number 10 and him. Maybe it was the aimed shot at his face, maybe it was the first time Udai served right at him, and maybe it was the fourth or maybe it was the smirks, the clicking of their tongues, the feral grins or the fire in their eyes every time they looked at each other. It didn’t quite matter when he was rotated out and someone clapped him on his back, one arm slung over his shoulders and teasing tone obvious, “So? What did you do to that guy that he hates you so much?”  
  
“Oh, c’mon,” Shion chuckled while observing the court, eyes trailing after the ace, “I didn’t do anything at all. I am totally innocent, he picked a fight with me, probably just hates liberos or something.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Yeah, of course.” The unbelieving lilt was quite obvious, but Inunaki didn’t comment on it. “Well, whatever dick-measuring contest you are doing—”  
  
“OI!”  
  
“—Don’t forget that we’re still in a match and he’s not the only one we have to win against.”  
  
Of course Inunaki didn’t forget that. He wasn’t dumb. He may have been carried away a little bit, but he wasn’t going to let that hinder his performance.

*

It had been fun. Probably the most fun Inunaki had in a while and definitely one of the most fun he had while in a match.  
  
It had been fun, until it hadn’t been anymore.  
  
They lost.  
  
It wasn’t his fault, but it also had been. Volleyball was a team sport, it hadn’t been anyone’s fault but it also had been everyone’s. In the end none of it mattered. The ball had dropped and his team’s time at the Spring High Nationals had been cut short. Karasuno had the upper hand, nothing they could do about it now, but it also was incredibly frustrating. He had wanted to make his team and himself be seen for a little while longer.

Shion couldn’t stop the tears flowing out of his eyes, weeping with his friends and teammates when they lined up, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone on Karasuno. They thanked their fans and then quietly turned to make their way out. However, Inunaki couldn’t stop himself from casting one last glance back at Udai, watching him laughing beside his teammates.

Inunaki excused himself after a bit, saying he needed to go to the bathroom, only to walk through the whole building, passing about three different ones to finally get into one, but he had wanted to be alone for a bit. When he walked out again, turning a corner, his eyes widened at the person standing in front of him, equally surprised.

Shion knew exactly how he looked like shit. Although he had washed his face, the tears he had spilled had left their mark, his eyelids puffed up and eyes bloodshot and red, a stark contrast against his pale face and the almost hollow and tired look in his eyes. He knew, because he had spent a good five minutes standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom just watching his reflexion. Udai didn’t seem to mind though, just standing in front of him, looking pensive and staring intensely at him.

Inunaki wanted to say a lot of things to him. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry that he had underestimated him because of his height and that he definitely was a great spiker, an ace worthy of his name and that he respected him. He wanted to tell him how much fun he had during their match, regardless of what the results said, because it was the first time he himself was challenged. Shion didn’t have real rivalries beforehand. Not like this. He knew other liberos who he wanted to beat, but that was more in line with how he wanted to be better to be better than them. It was never a direct challenge, since he was the one who had his team’s back and he wasn’t at the frontline. Liberos didn’t do rivalries. For him everyone on the opposite team was an equal challenge and dangerous. He, by himself, was a threat to others because he could dig and dive and save, but he was never the challenge. Getting the ball down on his side of the court was, but not him himself.

So, it was…nice to be seen as a rival, to be an explicit target and not be the one whose job it was to be avoided on court. He wanted to say that it had been so much fun to be in that position, that he also admired that Udai hadn’t given up on trying to serve in his direction, and that he didn’t take the easy way out. He had liked the challenge, although it had also been outright annoying. He wanted to thank the spiker for making him enjoy his last match at this tournament as much as he did.

However, Inunaki voiced none of all these thoughts and as a teasing glint appeared in his eyes, he instead settled on, “You couldn’t spike me in my face.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but certainly not the snort that escaped Udai’s lips, which settled into a grin. They both knew he had come very close.

“I guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.”

Next time. A promise, that they would face each other again. This wasn’t the end.

“Don’t think that I’ll make it easy for you. Next time, I’m going to stand as a winner on the court.”

“I look forward to it.”

The libero watched the ace for a moment, before finally stretching his hand out.

“Inunaki Shion.”

A surprised expression crossed the other’s face, as he looked down at the gesture and then met his eyes again.

“Udai Tenma.”  
  
They shook hands.

*

Inunaki Shion was bored. With the break in between seasons, he was just a little bit lost with what he should do now. Of course, he still trained, but with over half of the team going back to their hometowns and families it just wasn’t the same, which was why he was now strolling through the city.

If he was going to waste away his free time for the next week, he might as well find some entertainment and a manga or two would surely be able to give him that. It had been a while since he last sat back to read and he had absolutely no idea what he was looking for or what was popular right now, but he’d probably find something.

Arriving at a large manga store he just glanced around a bit, eyes travelling over all the shelves, filled with different colourful manga. It had been a few minutes, until he suddenly stopped in front of a series, eyes widening.

_Udai Tenma._

It couldn’t be, right? It had to be a coincidence, there was no freaking way that the author could actually be his high school volleyball rival. However, he couldn’t stop the memories flooding his mind. It had been so many years since he first met him back in his second year of high school. He had been ferocious, but the match had been fun. Inunaki hadn’t thought about it for a long time, but seeing that name again, after years of not hearing about it, made him remember. They had met a second time at the Interhigh in his third year and that time Shion’s team had won. He remembered the joy he felt when it happened, and he also remembered the delight he had on the court when Udai had again tried to challenge him. He imagined that the ace had also had fun with it. When in their first match it had been pissed off glares, the second time it had been unbelievable laughs. He remembered their rivalry fondly, maybe because so much time had passed, but it was a dear memory.

He hadn’t seen or heard about Udai after that ever again. Karasuno hadn’t made the nationals in his third year at Spring High and so his rival had been gone, too. The ace also hadn’t joined any professional teams. Inunaki had tried to find him, back when he joined his first team, but Udai Tenma had gone completely under the radar and so their rivalry had come to an end.

And suddenly he was here again, his name on a manga of all things. Shion took the first volume out of the shelf and looked at it. Zombie’s really weren’t what he had been looking for when entering the shop and the name _Zombie Knights Zom’bish_ was average at best, and absolutely nerdy and cheesy at worst, but he’d give it a chance and buy it. If only to see if it had been worth it for Udai to quit volleyball for this.

A few hours later he stepped back into the manga store and bought the rest of the volumes that had already been published. The manga was good. Really good, which he reluctantly had to admit and after he finished reading it, he pulled up the website of Weekly Shonen Vie. Scrolling through it, he tried to find everything he could about Udai. It wasn’t much, there wasn’t even a personal e-mail or something else with which he could contact him, so he did the next best thing he could think of to get his attention and donated a bit of money. However, he had to do it anonymously because he was a professional player and his PR manager would kill him if he just started randomly sending money to companies without reason. However, Shion did use his name when he started commenting on the official website about the parts he liked about the manga. Maybe Udai would see these messages and try to reach out. Inunaki really would love to find out how exactly his former rival ended up where he was.

*

Hinata stepped into his apartment and looked around in wonder, as if there was something interesting to find. There wasn’t. Inunaki was not the tidiest person on earth, but he prided himself in having a little bit of organisation in his home, so he was absolutely at ease with waving at Hinata to make himself comfortable in the living room while he prepared some tea.

The small spiker had only officially joined the team two weeks ago, but he had already kind of weaseled his way into Inunaki’s heart. It had come as a little bit of a surprise, when in the first week he had asked Shion if he could ask him about some receiving tips as if he wasn’t already pretty good at it, but Inunaki had already wanted to talk with him, too, so it had checked out. Hinata had been surprisingly easy to talk to. The fact that he was normally surrounded by the younger teammates of the Jackals who somehow all knew and encountered each other in their high school days, had first made him seem as chaotic as the rest of them, or more specifically bringing out the most chaotic of them, but Hinata could be very focused and quiet. A fact that he had seen at the try outs but was even more pronounced when talking about volleyball face to face.

He didn’t quite know why exactly Hinata was right here in his apartment again, but when he asked him if they could hang out, Inunaki only had shrugged his shoulders and answered, “Sure.”

When the tea was ready, he went back to the living room and found the younger one standing in front of his photo wall. It was just a corkboard which he had pinned a variety of photos on, ranging from his family to friends to volleyball photos from middle school until now. It may be a little bit cheesy to have all those photos on display, especially because there were also quite a few unflattering party photos on it, but he liked those memories. It was also pretty funny when he found new photos on it, as his friends had over the years made a habit out of just pinning them on without his knowledge and it had just stuck.

Hearing him come back, Hinata turned around and grinned wholeheartedly at him. “Inunaki-san, you were such a cute kid back then!”

Not expecting that, Shion just blinked, before sputtering into a laugh. “Why, thank you. Are you done with snooping around my apartment? The tea is ready,” he smirked, which prompted Hinata to grin sheepishly and look to his left to what apparently caught his eye, because he stuttered out a surprised squeak. Inunaki followed his gaze to his manga collection that was in the bookshelf right beside his photo wall.  
  
“That’s…that’s the little giant!” Hinata exclaimed astonishedly, which made Inunaki whirl around to him in surprise. It had been years since he had last heard that name, that title, from someone else and hearing it from his new teammate of all people was kind of jarring. But Hinata unmistakably was staring at his collection of Zombie Knight Zom’bish, which meant that they definitely were talking about the same person. “You…You know Udai?” He had to be extra sure, because how, HOW was it possible that this name that he had last heard in years would be a name Hinata knew?

“Yeah! He…,” It seemed like Hinata also came to the realization that he just uttered the nickname of his former rival and not just the name of a mangaka, because he stopped and stared at Inunaki in equal shock.

“He’s…I didn’t know that he writes…manga?”

“Never mind about his change in careers! Just how do you know his nickname? It’s been years since I heard it and it’s not like he’s an active player anymore?” Inunaki was absolutely shocked and his voice may be borderline on hysterical, but this was so utterly ground-breaking, he just didn’t know what to think.

“The little giant was the reason why I even got into volleyball and why I went to Karasuno! Why is there a manga of his on your shelf?!” Hinata’s voice was nearly on the same frequency as his had been and this situation was so surreal that Inunaki just stared, before he decided to plop onto his sofa and take a shaking sip of his tea.

He had probably known, somewhere in his mind, that Hinata had been in Karasuno, but the dots hadn’t connected at all. It wasn’t like it had mattered, especially because Hinata was so much younger. He couldn’t have known Udai in high school, but of course it probably would have come up. The little giant had made a name for himself, it was natural that his school still had stories about him when Hinata went there. What was way more important was that Udai had actually inspired him to get into volleyball. Inunaki could see why, Hinata was also a small player, he had probably seen something in the way Udai had flown on the court. The resemblance was definitely there. However, something about it unnerved Shion. It was borderline on annoying, because how dare his one and only high school rival inspire his now-teammate? He could almost feel the teasing smirk of Udai that he had given him so many times back then, challenging him to see who was better. It made Inunaki frown.

On the other hand, some part of himself was actually happy about it. It was kind of nice to know that his former rival still left some prints in the volleyball world, even if it was just one kid who pursued it because of him. Looking back at the manga that was now in Hinata’s hands, he decided to later write some more messages onto the website. He had started leaving messages for a while now, first just some compliments about the manga, because it actually was good, until he finally decided to ask him to come watch volleyball games. He hadn’t gotten any answers yet, and he wasn’t sure if Udai even checked the messages but he decided here and now to continue with another idea. If Udai had inspired Hinata with just his playing, he probably could inspire a whole lot of other people if he wrote a manga about it. As much as Inunaki wouldn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want Udai to leave his volleyball past completely behind, which was why he spammed him to come to a match. And he would now start with pestering him about that volleyball manga idea.

Looking back at Hinata, he finally decided to answer, “I’m not sure why Udai went into manga, but it’s pretty good. And I know him because he was actually my rival back in high school.”

“What?” Hinata’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he threw the manga aside and sat down next to Inunaki. “What was he like back then?”

Hinata was definitely fanboying, so he decided to peck him down a little bit.

“Udai was kind of an asshole, to be honest. Started a fight with me the first time we met at nationals. Oh, and he hated me.”

Inunaki laughed at the dumbfounded expression at the younger one’s face and explained with a wink, “It was because I was better than him. Received every serve he tried to shoot at me and was one of the only ones who was also able to dig his spikes. Fun times.”

He further explained how they had come to respect each other the second time they had met at the Interhigh in his third year. Hinata on the other hand shared his own stories about Udai, how he first saw him on the television and decided that he also wanted to be able to fly like him and become the next little giant. How he later shed that title and how he met Udai when he went to nationals himself. It was nice to share these stories and reminisce about the old times while drinking tea and at the end of it all, Inunaki let the newest addition to the Jackals borrow a few of his manga. 

*

Inunaki was one of the few of his team that was in the locker room. His teammates of the monster generation were who knows where, probably still giving autographs or reconnecting with old friends, a fact that Hinata had told him about enthusiastically. Shion had also spent a good amount of time taking photos with fans and celebrating the win. It was a good match, a really really great beginning to the season, but he was tired and hungry, so he had headed into the showers and changed.

He was just about to put his jacket on when the door opened, Bokuto’s head popping in and when he met his eyes, the younger one broke into a grin.

“Hey hey hey! Wan-san, guess what? Someone wants to see you!”

“Huh?” Who wanted to see him? That match had been all about the monster generation, he didn’t know anyone here in the middle of Sendai, when someone stepped behind Bokuto into his field of vision.

What.

Shion’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, when he actually realized that in fact, yes, he knew that person. The first thing that he took in was that his hair had grown way longer. The libero had known that, given the fact that he’d more or less had stalked the website of Weekly Shonen Vie for information, but it was still a different thing to see it in person. The next was that he had dark eyebags and dressed absolutely shitty. Working from deadline to deadline probably did that to a person, huh? However, the face was still the same. Eyes clear and watching him with an intensity he probably wasn’t even aware of, Udai Tenma smiled abashedly and raised his hand in a greeting. “Uhm…Hi?”

Inunaki blinked. Once. Twice. What the fuck.

“Hi?! HI?! Udai Tenma, you damn bastard!” Inunaki leaped to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the now startled guy. “How dare you! I’ve pestered you for months, MONTHS, to finally watch a game and you walk in here, not telling me that you were even coming and then just hi me?”  
He had walked toward him and was now standing right in front of him, glaring, and then Udai had the audacity to smirk. “So, you do know that your messages were annoying, hm?”

This was not real. This couldn’t actually happen, could it?

“I can’t believe that I’ve been ghosted by my high school rival,” he called out and threw his hands in the air in defeat.

The locker room was quiet, he could feel the confused and unbelieving stares and when he glanced at Bokuto, he could already feel the questions incoming. Nah, he wasn’t going to deal with that today.

Turning back to the mangaka, his eyes narrowed until he decided, “I hope you don’t have any plans, because you and I are going to have a talk and get some dinner or something. I am not dealing with this while I’m hungry.”

He turned back to the room, not even waiting for an answer, snatching his jacket and walking towards the door, when he registered for the first time that Tenma hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Sorry, if I kidnap him. I hope it's okay?”

“Uh…yeah, don’t worry. I had plans with Bokuto anyways,” the taller guy with glasses and nice clothes answered. A workmate, probably? Shion noted down to later tell Udai that he should take one or two fashion advices from his colleague that apparently knew Bokuto. How did these two even become associates? Well, Inunaki would ask later, but for now he wanted to get away from any annoying questions himself, so he called a quick goodbye to his teammates and turned to Udai.

“Let’s go.”

They went to a restaurant Udai had apparently known, and while they were eating, they reminisced over old times and caught up. It was actually quite nice to talk with his old rival and his gushing about Hinata and Hoshiumi had been almost endearing. Inunaki himself had taken quite a liking to the both of them. Hinata was a great teammate and Inunaki always appreciated good defence players which was also why he had come to respect Hoshiumi. The little spiker had done many good saves on the opposite court that Inunaki had come to acknowledge. He also knew exactly why Udai liked both of them that much. He had played against him in high school, the resemblance of these three players were hard to miss and it was no wonder that his former rival was so enamored and inspired by these two.

“Y’know,” Inunaki interrupted the next wave of praises, hands propped up on the table to support his head, “I know I’ve said it many times before and you apparently even read my messages, but why don’t you write a volleyball manga? You said that these two were probably going to change how people view players with apparent obstacles, but you can do it, too? You already inspired Hinata, it wouldn’t be too difficult to inspire your readers and get a wider audience with these messages you hope to send. Especially because you know what you’re talking about. Just saying. And Zom’bish is going to finish soon, too, right?”

Inunaki had expected a decline, like always, but instead Udai fixed him with a contemplative stare and then smiled. “You know what? I might actually do it. In fact, I already started planning for it.”

“WHAT?! So, my little messages did in fact help you! I knew they weren’t going to waste! It’s okay, Udai, you can thank me for the idea later. I’ll think of something. Oh, and you know that you can always ask me for advice, right? I mean, I am a professional volleyball player and therefore literally the best source you can hope to have.”

Inunaki couldn’t stop his rambling, but then his eyes widened in a realization and not letting Tenma have a word in, he continued, “And while we’re at it, you have been gushing about Hinata and Hoshiumi for the last hour, don’t you have like…anything else you want to say about the match? Maybe about another position? Libero, for example? Someone who you might even know and played against? I’m not going to name names, I’m just saying that these two are not the only great players, you certainly should have some praise left for others, right?”

Shion smirked teasingly at the other man, who just rolled his eyes. They stared at each other for a second before both of them broke into a laugh.

Yeah, this catch-up was definitely worth it.

*

Inunaki Shion didn’t exactly know how he ended up here. Professional volleyball player and probably uncredited part-time editor/reviewer for a manga he inspired, even if his former rival - now friend - said otherwise, with said manga in his hands.

It had begun oh so innocently. After Udai had finally given in and got over himself to come to a match to watch him and seek him out, the both of them began having contact again. The first thing they did was exchange phone numbers, which made Inunaki change his postings of his weekly review of the new chapters from the official website to private messages. He hadn’t stopped, because one, Udai hadn’t complained that much about it, second, even if he did, it was a little bit funny to see him annoyed and third, it had kind of become a routine in Inunaki’s life and he liked to share his thoughts. He liked to imagine that they helped Udai, too.

It hadn’t only been these messages. Sometimes both of them even met up to play a little bit of casual volleyball. Shion would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a little bit satisfied about the fact that he was better and he made no effort to hide it, teasing the black haired mangaka every second he could. That was until one day, Udai had enough of it and spiked him straight into his face while he wasn’t looking and instead went to drink some water. With a bleeding nose and a pulsing headache, it had been definitely harder to poke fun at his friend and he had reined his comments in. For a little bit, at least.

It hadn’t been fun to explain to his team why exactly he had a bruise in the middle of his face and when he had mentioned Udai’s name, it had only been worse. He would never forget the laughter and embarrassment of admitting that a non-volleyball player had almost given him a concussion, with a volleyball nonetheless. He didn’t know what had been worse. Admitting that or the talk after his friend had burst into the locker room to have a reunion with him. Word had apparently spread after that and the next time he had come to practice, everyone had wanted to know more about it. He remembered with a shudder that Bokuto had asked him if he wanted to go on a double date with him and Akaashi, Udai’s editor, how he later found it. He had almost exploded upon hearing it, fake retching and insulting everyone included. He didn’t know how all of them had come to the conclusion that Udai and him were long lost lovers finding each other again or some bullshit. After clearing up that in fact he was just his high school rival and thank god did Hinata back him up on that, the teasing had died down.

However, when he had to admit after getting that bruise in his face, and fuck Udai for that, that he sometimes met him to play volleyball, the teasing had come back doubly. Atsumu had been right at the front of it. Seriously, did they really think that Shion had that bad of a taste?

Udai and him also didn’t only meet to play volleyball for the sake of good old times, because sometimes Udai actually needed a little bit of help with his newest manga and felt like “videos are not enough, just do as I say while I watch and sketch.”

That was another thing Inunaki had been happy about. The fact that Udai had finally come to his senses to write a manga about volleyball. Shion would gladly take all the credit with the idea even if his friend would deny it every time. When it had first come out, the libero had been extremely excited, only to be slightly put off when he read it. There hadn’t been a single representation for his position and with the memory of his first meeting with the mangaka, he was considering that Udai probably still hadn’t gotten over his hate of liberos from former days. Maybe it was also a repressed way of getting back at Inunaki, personally. He couldn’t be too sure. However, he was not above calling Udai out for it and demanding justice for liberos.

With every new chapter, he would spam the mangaka until he finally got his way. It was also genuinely amusing to annoy Udai, if he was being absolutely honest, so he didn’t stop.

And here he stood now, with the newest volume in his hand. He knew a new libero was going to show up and after he had sent Udai a text stating, “Your liberos man. Why they gotta look so plain? You’re writing a shonen manga! They should look a little bit more exciting and memorable!”, the mangaka had even agreed.

He began to read, only to have his grin falter and he knew an absolutely horrified expression was on his face.

Udai Tenma, certified fashion disaster, had actually made his libero look like a greater catastrophe than himself, which was a feat in itself. It wasn’t even like the character was bad. He was great. A libero who wanted to be a libero despite being tall, dedicated, with dreams and struggles and just a good character. Inunaki would be elated if he wasn’t on the verge of tears. Why did that libero have bright banana yellow hair? With an undercut and a tongue piercing that didn’t even look good, paired with that hideous colored hair. And to make matters worse, the uniform was also a bright yellow. It was an eyesore. Plain and simple. How could a libero become such an abomination?

Inunaki now knew that this was a personal attack against himself; a personal dig and he kind of regretted all the times he had teased his former rival, which were now flashing before his eyes like he was dying and maybe he was. It certainly felt like his soul was ejecting out of his body, when he thought about it.

Hearing the smug voice of Udai right next to him wasn’t making it any better and Shion was somewhere in between wanting to throttle the mangaka and breaking down crying because somehow this abomination got through editing to be published. Like did no one see that...that thing and was against it? Did no one see Udai’s questionable fashion taste and put a stop to it? He hated this and Udai still hadn’t stopped smirking. The worst part was that this libero looked memorable, just like he had asked Udai to do. He regretted it. He would take a plain looking libero every time before this.

“This was not what I meant and you know it, you bastard.”


	2. udai.

*

Udai Tenma didn’t really know how it had happened, but here he was, with the latest volume of Meteo Attack, his new best-selling manga about volleyball in his hands, ready to be sent to the printer, and feeling a little overwhelmed.

Maybe, he thought, it had started in a stadium, seven years prior, when he had seen a battle between what was known as the two little giants of the Japanese volleyball world, engaging in mid-air combat in a way he had never seen before, inspiring a rivalry that was one for the ages, proving to people everywhere, that here, here were two boys who had achieved the improbable, standing on their own two feet in a game with odds so stacked against them. Or maybe it was five years before that, when he had stood in a similar position, staring down a libero at the other end of the net, and feeling the world bloom like a flower, ripe with sweet promise and fragrant with possibility.

Or maybe, he thought, it had started in a little gymnasium in a middle school out on the quiet countryside, when a little boy had spiked a ball for the first time, and fallen in love with the view from the top.

Whatever it had been, Tenma was proud. Of himself, and where he stood today. Most of all, he was proud of the work that had blossomed under his hands.

He turned to give his friend, professional libero Inunaki Shion, beside him a smirk.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

*

Udai Tenma first discovered volleyball in middle school, from one of his childhood friends who had invited him in to join their club. While said friend wasn’t into volleyball anymore, for Tenma it remained an intense passion, one that carried through both his middle and high school years, ending with him becoming Karasuno’s ace, the shortest ever.

He had never been one to take the easy way out. He didn’t care if everyone underestimated him, and everyone _did_ , from other spikers to middle blockers to even liberos. It only made it more satisfying when he beat them. The heights of his opponents across the net in high school were ten times more intimidating than those he had faced back in middle school, but that only meant that he had to work harder. And he did - watching volleyball matches late into the night, taking notes on blocking, serving and receiving; practicing with his Coach even on the days the rest of the team had off, walking that dangerously fine line between overworking himself and doing just enough to stay on top. By the time he graduated high school, Tenma made sure his technical skills were second to none of anyone in his team. It was a fact he was proud of, a fact he clung onto on days when it seemed his life was a bit empty, and the doubts begun to creep into his mind, whenever he thought of whether he should pursue volleyball in college after all.

And then, when he was eighteen years old, Tenma tore his ACL from landing awkwardly after a particularly high jump. It was an injury just days before the Spring High preliminaries; an effective death sentence, which his teammates and coach greeted with appropriate horror, helplessly, with their hands tied. Tenma was relegated to the sidelines, and he could only cry bitter, bitter tears as he watched Karasuno get eliminated in the semi-finals, losing to Shiratorizawa for the first time in years.

And so Tenma's high school career ended, without him ever having the chance to step again on court. What would've been his last big hurrah he spent in the stands, wishing for any other outcome than the one that had unfolded in front of his eyes.

He couldn't face his team, after. He had never hated himself so much, and he couldn't face the regret that was eating him whole, the guilt and shame, the anger, the disappointment. He retired from the volleyball club and focused himself on his grades, anything to keep his mind off of his body that had betrayed him.

Torn ACL injuries usually required at least six months to heal, and that was being optimistic. On top of that, he would need to get his ACL reconstructed, if he ever wanted to play volleyball again. Tenma’s family didn’t have that sort of money though. His career, he thought, was as good as over.

ln the days following that disastrous qualifiers’ season, he somehow found himself taking up reading again. It wasn't as if there was anything else he could do, with his right knee, the knee on his dominant leg, the leg that made him _fly_ , still bound up in a cast. One thing led to another, and he soon lost himself in manga. He started drawing, started writing as a way to release his thoughts so that he wouldn't go insane with the pent up emotions he kept tightly bottled up inside. He lost himself in a way he hadn't since middle school, when he'd first learnt to jump, and then to soar.

When his knee finally recovered, after lots of physical therapy and conditioning, he went to Tokyo. He received no offers there, no scholarships either, and it seemed like a cold, hard confirmation of all the things he had already agonised over for the past nine months, when he had gone through the five stages of grief for volleyball. Perhaps he hadn't been as amazing as he had made himself out to be. Perhaps the world had no need for him as a volleyball player. Nobody seemed to care. And if that was really the case, there was no point to him even trying.

 _I’m sorry, Coach,_ he thought. _I don’t think I’m the player you thought I was._ He put Coach Ukai’s words, the last words of encouragement he had told Tenma before he graduated, about him being able to make it if he only put his mind to it, out of his mind for good.

In time, he taught himself not to care either. There were other things he had in his life now. Even if the sight of the court became a little too painful for him to look at, it was something he could simply stay away from. He put volleyball out of his mind and studied diligently in college, opening himself up to new avenues that helped him flourish in his newly rediscovered passion for the manga industry.

And before he'd known it, he was going to graduate. He was going to have a real degree.

By then, it had been three years since he had last laid hands on a volleyball. That was when he heard the news through the grapevine that was the old volleyball group on Facebook that he hardly kept up with - Karasuno, his old team, had made the Spring High again, and more than that, they had made it to Day 3, just like he'd once did.

Tenma, full of curiosity, decided to go see.

*

He didn’t think of his high school days often anymore. The memory of how he had ended his volleyball career cast a dark shadow over the rest of his time at Karasuno. As he regretted all the things he could’ve done better but didn’t, and mourned all the things he’d wanted to achieve but had fallen short, he had relegated it all to a corner of his mind, locked inside a box with the key thrown away.

That said, occasionally, very occasionally, Tenma got nostalgic. He had made a few friends back then. Not too many, but a few. He wondered if any of them had ever decided to make volleyball their job - he knew how some of them had planned for it.

One boy, in particular, stood out in his mind. As one of the very few people who could receive his spikes, Tenma had almost despised him at first, but quickly his feelings had evolved to respect and admiration, because damn, that guy was good. Not a single wasted movement, and his receives were elegant, almost flawless. His intuition and ability to read the ball were honed to absolute perfection, and it showed. When Tenma was still learning to refine his own skill, it had given him particular satisfaction to see that the other boy couldn’t reach his block outs, because that meant Tenma was on the right path.

He had played against that boy and his team only about five times, twice in official matches, and thrice in practice matches. What was his name? Ugh, Tenma prided himself on having almost photographic memory, which he’d needed back then in order to analyse his opponents, to determine which strategy would be best for defeating them. There was no way he was so old as to have forgotten the name of one of his greatest rivals already—

_Inunaki. Inunaki Shion. That’s it!_

Tenma looked up the name on his computer, scrolling through the results. As he’d expected, it seemed that the guy had received offers straight out of high school. Hmm, the Black Jackals, huh?

Tenma, weirdly enough, had actually heard about them. They had tried to scout someone from his floor last year, but the boy had to turn it down due to his girlfriend having an early pregnancy, and given that the boy was well-known (and well-loved) around campus, it had come as a shock to everyone when they realised that not only was he harbouring a secret relationship, but that he was planning to marry her. It had fuelled the rumour mill for _months_.

Tenma hadn’t cared all that much when he’d found out. The news had passed him by like the small river that wound around his campus, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. The most it had aroused in him was a little bit of bitterness - from what he’d gathered, the guy was a great setter, and extremely tall to boot at almost 200 cm so it had been, in the eyes of most people, a waste. He so easily, so willingly put his career on hold, just for love.

Tenma had found it ludicrous. That _that_ man could so easily set volleyball aside, when for Tenma, it had been the most painful decision of his life, just twisted the knife in deeper.

And now Inunaki was in that team, the one that the boy might’ve joined. His curiosity only peaked further. Despite the fact that he was running up against multiple deadlines, and had a thesis to finish, Tenma found himself setting aside the rest of the night just scrolling through Google, devouring every article of Inunaki he could find.

It was like the first whiff of a good drug. Tenma couldn’t stop, and the more articles he read, the more he remembered. Those memories he had kept locked away and hidden, were slowly coming back to him. He remembered how it had felt now, the first time he’d served against him, the ball barely missing the libero’s face. He remembered their first game, when Inunaki had received (almost) all of his serves.

He had to rush two of his papers in the morning, but Tenma didn’t regret a thing. It had been nice, to relive some of the nicer memories about volleyball. That was when an intriguing thing happened.

Despite severing almost all of his ties to the sport he used to love so much, Tenma couldn’t quite bring himself to quit his old team’s Facebook group, or the group chat on LINE. That morning, on a whim he decided to open up the chat again. To his surprise, there was a pretty lively chat going on, and scrolling up the chat, he found himself reading the messages with some surprise.

_Tsukishima: Third day, Karasuno just beat Nekoma!!!! 2-1!!! [Picture shared]_

What did it mean? Was Karasuno at Nationals again?

Tenma felt a jolt deep inside. From the little that he’d known, his old home team hadn’t had another trip to Nationals since his second year in high school.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt to take a trip down to Shibuya to take a look. He could get some lunch on the way, and it wasn’t as though he had afternoon classes today.

Besides, Tenma realised that he missed volleyball. It had been a while since he had seen a good volleyball game. If this current team had made it all the way to the third day, and just beat Nekoma - of all teams, he wondered if his old Coach might be there, and if he had been proud - then they’d just made it to Top 8.

He began to grin. Yes, taking a trip down wouldn’t hurt at all.

*

Although Tenma wouldn’t write about it until years and years later, his one encounter watching the Karasuno vs Kamomedai match in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gym had changed him, almost irrevocably. In all his time in high school, he had never gone up against anyone who had been a similar height to him but wasn’t a setter or libero. While Hinata had been the one who was inspired by him to go to Karasuno in the first place, Tenma actually related more to Hoshiumi - to that desire to stand out, to be noticed, to shout out to the world that he was there, present and in the moment, and completely unforgettable. It was an image that burned itself onto the back of his eyelids, and while he would put it in the back of his mind because there were other projects he wanted to try out, other stories he wanted to tell, that afterimage remained.

Was it fate? Or the gods maybe? He didn’t think it was coincidence, the way the one match he had watched in years felt like it had called out to him. With that match, he had let go of the last lingering bitterness he had left. He felt wonder and exhilaration, and he hadn’t realised how he’d missed feeling that. While he had left volleyball behind, and set it beside him for good, he knew now that he could still enjoy it, even if it meant him just watching on the sidelines.

Well, not _totally_ on the sidelines. Tenma realised he didn’t have to sever all his ties with volleyball. He continued to keep in touch with Tsukishima-san, Tanaka and some of the other old alumni he had met in the Spring Tournament, even if it was mostly just sporadic, and mostly about his old team.

And though he graduated soon after, managing through a couple of unpaid internships and some wrangling, to land a job at Weekly Shounen Vie magazine, and starting a job that involved many, many sleepless nights and frankly not enough salary to pay his bills, he would faithfully follow both Hinata’s and Hoshiumi’s career over the years. He was strangely gratified hearing that Hoshiumi received tons of offers when he graduated from Kamomedai, including one from the Schweiden Adlers, which was the one he eventually accepted. Unsurprisingly, whenever he could, he began to follow the Schweiden Adlers’ Facebook page, and watch their matches streamed live whenever he had the time to spare it. 

Hinata, the person he, Tenma Udai, had personally inspired, had sort of gone under the radar after he finished high school - just like Tenma, which had worried him for a little while - but two years later, Tenma began to hear news of him again, signing on to the Black Jackals, the team he knew Inunaki was in. Tenma had followed them from time to time, if only for Inunaki’s sake. His old friend and rival had by now firmly cemented his place as the team’s starting libero, a development Tenma wasn’t at all surprised about.

The annoying prick.

The first time it happened, he wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Apparently, there had been an anonymous call to their publishing company, with the caller leaving a simple message that praised Tenma’s series and donating a generous sum. Eventually, little messages began to pop up on the Weekly Shounen Vie website. It made Tenma groan, because _Inunaki Shion_ , the little shit, was not at all subtle. Usually, it was just comments on what he liked about the story and characters, but more and more often, nudges toward Tenma’s next big venture were hinted at too. One time, he even wrote it outright, right there on the page dedicated to Zombie Knights Zom’bish, in simple, crisp letters after his latest message: _Udai Tenma, you bastard. When are you coming to our volleyball game?_

Well, whatever Inunaki was up to, Tenma hoped he was happy, because he was about to get his wish. The 2018 volleyball season was beginning with a match between the two teams. Tenma made sure to clear his schedule for the day the showdown was about to take place between the two tiniest wing spikers in the V League. He was not missing this match, not for the world.

*

When they had first met on the court, five or six years ago now, when Tenma had first laid eyes on the both of them, Hinata and Hoshiumi were hardly equals. While Hinata had an amazing jump and a gift in the form of a perfect enabler like Kageyama, Hoshiumi had very much been the man who could do it all. Tenma had loved seeing him, seeing a shadow of his former self that, even though it could never have compared to Hoshiumi’s talent, was very much celebrated by the adoring crowds.

In the Sendai Stadium, he was feeling that way all over again, but for a very different reason. From the last time Tenma had seen him up until now, Hinata had improved tremendously. He was now a monster, well-rounded and a force to be reckoned with in his own right, engaging the other “little giant” on the court on his own terms. True rivals, healthy rivals that had respected each other. Tenma had something like that, at one point. Too bad now he was just annoying.

Tenma had forgotten how good it was to watch a game in person, too. Everything was more immediate, and he was more easily caught up in the swell of emotions from the crowd. This was the world of professional volleyball now, where everyone was more or less on the same level of skill, and yet, Hoshiumi, and Hinata, were thriving. The natural disadvantages they had had were not a hindrance to them. Tenma wondered if the feeling Hinata had gotten from seeing him play on television when he was just a child could at all be similar to what Tenma was feeling now - a mixture of joy, excitement, pride and a little bit of envy, and wistfulness as well. He hoped, no, he _knew_ , the both of them would pave the way for a generation of new players who realised that they could still fight, even with odds that were stacked against them.

He was moved. He wanted to gush about it, and to someone who would understand.

From time to time during the match, his eyes strayed to Inunaki. The man had really matured, and if Tenma had thought his receives were beautiful in high school, they were even more so now. He knew exactly where to be, when he needed to be there. His receives were met with jubilant roars of approval from the stands.

Tenma wondered if it would be too awkward to approach him afterwards. The man, at least, couldn't have forgotten him. Not when he was pestering him every month after he dropped a new chapter to come to a game. That was practically an invitation to reconnect, right?

There was just one thing Tenma had to do first. Honestly, the interview with Bokuto Koutarou was Akaashi’s idea, and he was not opposed to it, although in his heart of hearts, the player he’d really wanted to interview was Hoshiumi. Still, Bokuto was the more popular player, and Tenma knew if he landed this interview, it would make it easier for him to sell his newest pitch. Especially since he had just about made up his mind as to what topic he was going to write about next - and no, it had nothing to do with Inunaki in the slightest. He could simply say that he changed his mind about the protagonist afterwards, and no one would be the wiser.

The interview was over fairly quickly, to Tenma’s relief. He was hungry, no, he was _starving_ , for some yakiniku, and he knew an old restaurant his old Coach used to take them to after their matches that sold fairly cheap. Steeling himself, he asked Bokuto to take him to Inunaki.

“I’m an old friend of his,” he clarified, when Bokuto and Akaashi gave him curious looks.

He wanted to gush, that was all he wanted. He wanted to reminisce over old memories, and discuss what today’s match meant for the future of volleyball. He was tired and sentimental and he was tired of hiding that he was sentimental. He wanted to indulge, and of all his old acquaintances, only one person he knew would truly appreciate it.

Hopefully, he thought, Inunaki wanted to see him too.

*

_How_ , he wondered, _was this his life?_

Like, how was this actually his life?

He’d conceptualised Zombie Knights Zom’bish early, pretty much since the beginning of college when he was experiencing a bit of a crisis himself. Back then, more than just not knowing who he wanted to be, and unable to find his place in the world, he’d been gripped by a weird, more existential sort of terror. Being confronted with himself, all of himself, in moments where he laid in bed, tossing and turning for hours, had eventually inspired him. He’d used Zom’bish to explore that - that horror of being, and being existent, though since was a more internal sort of conflict, he wasn’t too surprised that it wasn’t selling all that well.

Over the years he came to the humble realisation however that if he, Udai Tenma, had no choice but to live, and live with himself, then he could surround himself with things that would make his existence worthwhile. He found himself caught off-guard in recent months, falling in love with volleyball all over again, from an older and, he hoped, wiser perspective. The angst from his younger days would never truly leave him, but at the same time, he was ready for a new chapter in his life now.

He was more than ready to start a new narrative, and for the first time in recent memory, his thoughts flew unchecked, his sketches etched out across pages and pages in copics markers. The words were coming to him easily, as he drew on old ideas, old dreams, and the hope of those old dreams, inspired by boys who’d actually achieved them.

While he would never admit it to the other man, he was glad, just a little, that Inunaki had pushed him. It was hard not to get caught up in his wave of enthusiasm, and the support was nice. Although, being grilled by Inunaki’s nosey teammates and Akaashi after that dramatic reunion they had in front of the lockers wasn’t. It was none of their business anyways.

Akaashi had been a little upset when Tenma had shown him the first draft. Truthfully, the interview with Bokuto _had_ been useful, it was just that Tenma had no intention at all of basing his new protagonist on him. It seemed though, for his reserved editor, that that had been his main expectation. Nevertheless, after Tenma had talked him through his main storyboard along with the rest of his small crew, Akaashi had nodded in approval. That was all Tenma needed, really.

It was no time at all before his first chapter of Meteo Attack was drawn and revised, then taken to be published, and feeling the high of his newfound sense of accomplishment, Tenma made a profound mistake.

That night, as he celebrated the beginning of his new manga, going out and dressing himself in something decent the way he hadn’t in ages, he had sent a text to Inunaki, informing him about his volleyball manga would be available for purchase very soon.

He would come to regret it, as in the morning when his story was bought off of manga stores in the Weekly Shounen Vie magazine, he received a text from Inunaki, simply stating, _Where’s the libero?_

From then on, Tenma would know no peace.

It was an innocent start. After every chapter made its way onto the shelves, Inunaki would make a comment, as he had done with Tenma’s previous series, and though he wouldn’t ever tell the man to his face, he appreciated his feedback. He was honest with his opinions, and reading his reviews always made Tenma feel good, gratified whenever he was doing something right.

Not so with Meteo Attack. It was like he had opened Pandora’s Box; with each chapter he would gush about the volleyball action now, which Tenma was fine with, but then he would also ask, without fail every time, every few chapters or so, where the libero was.

It irritated him. It made him want to remove the libero he had in mind altogether, simply out of spite.

He regretted giving Inunaki his number. He regretted a great many things, including the fact that he should never have surrounded himself with people who had had ties to volleyball, including even his editor, Akaashi Keiji.

He was beginning to think that man was a bit of a troll. It had begun with subtle suggestions here and there, because, as he pointed out, every hitter needed a good setter. Otherwise it wouldn’t matter how good a spiker you were, if there was no ball to hit.

Things came to a head when he had two volumes published, and the libero had yet to make an appearance. The setter, Mamoru Tomio, was not yet of particular relevance. His protagonist, Hoshihito’s closest relationship was with his coach who he had first met in elementary school, and who had introduced him to volleyball.

It was at that point of the story where Hoshihito still believed he had to do everything by himself, not because he struggled with his own ego, but rather because he was scared. He had the power to burn everything he touched if he got too excited, and while that worked great in spiking balls to the enemy’s side of the court, since no amount of training would prepare anyone for receiving a ball that was literally on fire, it had also instilled in him a sort of fear in working with others too closely, because he didn’t want to hurt them accidentally. He skipped practices for that reason. He only worked alone, spiking balls against the wall, serving for hours on end, letting his passion for volleyball burn bright, _literally_ , and it worked well for him so far.

That was, until Tenma introduced the libero. He would be the first person that could receive Hoshihito’s spikes. Tenma thought Inunaki would be pleased with that development. He sort of wished he could be there just to witness Inunaki’s reaction in person, but whatever. In a few hours, he’d be on the receiving end of a slew of his friend’s messages, and Tenma was rather looking forward to it. 

In the meantime, Tenma was sketching out his own plans for the setter’s development. He hoped that would make his editor happy.

In a weird kind of way, he felt fulfilled. He had a story he was excited to tell. Thanks to Inunaki, he knew, at least, that multiple members of the Black Jackals were reading, and supported his manga. He even had a text from Hinata the other day, congratulating him on his success.

Life was good. He supposed, at the moment, that was all he could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow us on twitter! xD
> 
> [Nicini](https://twitter.com/nicini02) and [Minty](https://twitter.com/shnckos)


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